The Seduction of Grima Wormtongue
by Bricket Wood
Summary: When Grima's little love bunny kicks the bucket everyone moves in to stake their claim upon the counsellor. Be warned! This story contains British humour and has slashy overtones!


**THE SEDUCTION OF GRIMA WORMTONGUE**

By Luton Airport and Bricket Wood Services

Disclaimer: All place and character names belong to Tolkien, their personalities belong to us. All innuendoes c/o Luton Airport.

Feedback: Constructive criticism and praise welcome. Send When Grima's little love bunny kicks the bucket everyone else moves in to stake their claim upon the counsellor.

**Be warned, strange humour with some strong slashy overtones lies within.**

* * *

Cue music and dimming of the lights. Two figures come into view, standing in the shadows. They embrace briefly but are interrupted by a shout from across the way.

"Theodred you bastard! Hurry up or they'll all be gone when we get there!"

"Okay, okay! I'm coming Eomer!" yells back the nearest of the figures. He turns to his fellow and says softly "It's only an orc-hunt, I've been on squillions before and I'm always back before you know it aren't I?"

The other does not look reassured. "But what if there is a battle? The scout did report quite a number of them."

"Look Grima, stop being silly. You're like this every time I leave Meduseld and I'm getting a bit fed up with it to be honest. No don't cry! I'm sorry! I'll promise I'll be back within the week and when I return I'll…" a loud cry blots out the rest of what he says, which is probably fortunate for those readers with delicate ears.

"Theodred!"

"I'm coming! Bye strudel, see you when I return." With a quick kiss he turns and walks away.

"Don't you die on me now!" Grima calls to his retreating back "or I'll let Eowyn have your guts for garters!" Theodred turns and grins at him and that was the last time Grima ever saw his love alive.

* * *

After a day or two on the road there was still no sign of the orcs. So it is fortunate that at this moment things decided to get interesting. Theodred and his band of men were riding along a bit despondently when all of a sudden they were ambushed by a group of orcs who had been hiding in the long grass on the plains. Cue the big skirmish.

Arrows were flying everywhere, horses were charging around willy-nilly, lots of orcs were getting chopped to small itty bitty pieces and the fun was really getting started when the little 'accident' occurred. Eomer was firing off his arrows every which way with great success when he was attacked (in a battle, we know! The audacity of it!) As he fell to the ground the arrow he had been getting ready to shoot let loose and he winced when he saw where it landed.

"Oops, sorry Theodred!" he yelled across the field "I didn't mean to do that!" There, he had apologised, nothing more to be done now. So Eomer went back to slaughtering all those innocent little orcs who were now trying to run away, how dare they!

Theodred in the mean time wasn't quite such a happy bunny. Maybe the arrow sticking out of his back had something to do with it but alas, now we shall never know. Regardless of this though he still found the strength to call his cousin every name under the sun, which shall not be repeated here for fear of shocking our gentle readers. Suffice to say that they were not at all nice.

As Theodred lay on the ground writhing in agony the rest of the orcs were dispatched and his band of manly men were feeling pleased with themselves again. As their leader began making funny noises in his pain the men came to nose and offer the famous "in my humble opinion" spiel that such circumstances warrant.

"What's he making all that noise for? It's only a scratch" said rider number 1.

"Nah, looks nasty to me, I reckon we're gonna have to rip that right out of you my lad" said rider no. 2 thoughtfully.

"Don't you push the arrow through?" asked Eomer.

Theodred groaned a bit louder, not looking forward to either prospect. The others shushed him and continued a lively debate about what should be done to help their fallen Captain. Now these being manly men and not the clever poofy types they scorned so easily this argument went on for some time. In fact, by the time they had decided that the best course of action would be to break the shaft, bind the wound and get Theodred back to Edoras with all possible speed the poor fellow was already dead. The riders turned to their Captain to present their plan with pride but stopped short when they saw him.

"My Lord?" tried rider no.32 "My Lord, are you alright?" This elicited no response so they all cautiously crept closer.

"Theodred, you lazy bugger! Wake up!" said Eomer, who was beginning to get slightly hysterical as he began to realise just how far up the creek he now was.

Rider no. 659 bent down and gave Theodred a good slap. Nothing happened.

"You know, I reckon he's dead" offered rider no.73.

"Don't be stupid!" piped up Eomer "He's not dead; he's just passed out in pain is all."

"No I tell you, he's dead! Kicked the bucket! Gone! Forever! Not coming back! Dead!" shrieked rider no.28, who was quite young and not used to this sort of thing.

"He's right you know. I can't feel a pulse or nothing" said rider no. 659.

Eomer looked down at his cousin in fear and offered thanks that none of the slightly dim others had noticed that it was a Rohirrim arrow sticking in their princes back. Feeling reassured by this (if they hadn't noticed yet they weren't going to), Eomer listened to the new argument that had begun, on what to do with the body. It was agreed that as a prince Theodred should be given a fitting end but none knew what this should be.

"Burn it", suggested one. "Bury it", another. "Take it back to Edoras and let the King deal with it so we don't get in trouble for doing the wrong thing." This wise comment came from rider no. 59 and was met with general approval. All that remained now was to see who would have the honour of carrying such an important…bundle back home. In the end Eomer was stuck with this unpleasant duty. He was the princes' cousin after all and their new Captain. It was only fitting that this honour be given to him.

Eomer however argued the toss, running along the lines of "I'm not riding back with that! It's a dead body! It's disgusting! Unhygienic! And it's beginning to smell! And anyway, I'm in charge here and I order no.36 to take it." He looked smug at this point, believing himself victorious.

"Rider no.36 is dead my Lord."

* * *

It was quite a ride, the rain not helping matters and by the time they all got back to Edoras Eomer was in no mood to deal with grieving relatives. He had never liked Theodred all that much anyway, spoilt little brat that he had been, and he liked him even less after carrying his carcass across the plains of Rohan.

But then he saw his sister Eowyn and Grima the chief counsellor waiting for them. As he fastened his eyes on Grima realisation slowly dawned in the mind of our horse lord. With Theodred dead Grima was his for the taking. And oh how he had wanted him for as long as he could remember. An evil smile formed on his lips but he composed himself, deciding that lack of tact was not going to do him any good at this point in time.

* * *

Eowyn stood with Grima outside the Hall and watched as Eomer and his men returned. News had been sent ahead about Theodreds little 'accident' and she had already got her grieving out of the way, such as it had been. Now she was rather impatiently waiting to get Theodred out of the way too. For Eowyn had also seen the advantages to her cousin's unexpected demise. For one, Eomer was now heir to the King and that gave her a lot more power about court. And secondly, Grima was now available again.

Eowyn had always desired the chief counsellor, ever since his arrival in Rohan, and she had tried to seduce him before only to be pipped at the post by Theodred. Now the way was open to her again and she fully intended to go get her man, no matter what sort of dastardly tricks she must use to do so. Smiling to herself she turned to greet her brother.

But at that moment it all became too much for Grima, who burst into tears. Both siblings, having spied an opportunity, rushed in to give him a hug but met each other instead. The glares from both sides had to be seen to be believed, but could generally be interpreted as meaning something like this: War had been declared and both sides intended to win it.

* * *

Therefore, cue the Romeo and Juliet balcony scene. Or rather cue Eomer crawling across the grass to get to Grima's window scene because there are no balconies in this story. Not now, not ever. So there. Anyway, it was night-time and Eomer was crawling through the grass to get to Grima's window. Quite why he was doing this is likely to always remain a mystery but it is probable that Eomer thought he was being romantic. And he was also keen to get the first move in, before Eowyn had time to act.

He threw a stone at the window to catch Grima's attention. The window smashed. Eomer cringed, recognized that this was not what was meant to happen and decided there and then that this was going to be a really bad night. Unfortunately, before he could crawl off Grima came to the window, awoken by a rock to the head.

Eomer froze as Grima glared into the shadows trying to spot the individual responsible for his headache. Fight or flight instinct kicked in and Eomer tried to creep away only to be stopped by Grima's cry of "Theodred, Theodred is that you?" Grima had become temporarily unhinged by the death of his one true love, as shall be seen later on.

Eomer began to panic, but this was quickly superseded by a rush of anger. How in all of Middle Earth could anyone ever mistake him for that weedling? Even if it was dark and shadowy, that was no excuse! Which was why he rather foolishly called back to the window "No it bloody well isn't! It's me, Eomer!" He wanted to add 'Love of Your Life', but thought better of it at the sight of Grima's disappointed face.

"Oh!" cried Grima. He sounded so crestfallen and sad and vulnerable that Eomer fell in love all over again. "What are you doing here?" Grima questioned, intrigued despite himself.

"Trying to get into your leggings. What on earth do you think I'm doing here you witless worm!" Love-struck as Eomer was at this moment it was perhaps that which had allowed his mouth to bypass his brain in such a tragic fashion. Yes, it was turning out to be a very bad night. However, Eomer came to and saw Grima blushing oh so innocently and wondered what he had just said. Whatever it was appeared to have worked so Eomer decided to move onto stage two of The Plan, entitled Wowing Your Subject with Grand Compliments.

Eomer cleared his throat and called up to Grima "Your face is as pale as snow and as beautiful as the moon". Eomer looked up expectantly at Grima. Grima did not look impressed. He cast around for something else to say. "You stand tall and proud as Isengard…and…I just really want to take your tower and…" the reader is lucky that there was a distraction at this point. Very lucky. Trust us.

"What is going on out there? Some of us are trying to get our beauty sleep don't you know!" Eowyn screeched.

Bugger! Eomer saw that Grima seemed to be turning his attention towards Eowyn whose head was poking out of a window a few feet away. Panic took full hold. He made a last desperate bid to win the praise and love of Grima. Arm thrown wide in approved serenading fashion, Eomer began to sing.

* * *

Eowyn stormed back inside. Just who did Eomer think he was pulling a stunt like that? Singing! How was she ever going to beat singing? She flopped on the bed and thought about how best to win Grima's affections. A cunning plan slowly formed.

She heard Grima bid goodnight to Eomer and close his window. What was left of it anyway. It seemed her brother's forthright approach was going unrewarded by her love muffin. So subtlety should be worth a shot. Yes, it was time to implement the sword-play innuendo ploy. She chuckled to herself, secure in the knowledge that she would upstage Eomer soon.

* * *

Eomer trudged off back to his own quarters. He had sung! Oh what a disaster! Of course, Grima had listened politely and had even pretended that he had enjoyed Eomers efforts but, oh the shame! He was never going to live this down. 'I'm a little teapot'. What had he been thinking?

Eomer cursed himself again for being such a manly man and thus unable to absorb even the teensiest bit of romantic notion. Damn it, but he just wasn't used to this whole courtship, seducing thing. That was Eowyn's forte. No, Eomer was used to getting any lass he wanted. All he usually had to do was say those magic words "I'm Eomer, nephew to the King", smile and waggle his eyebrows and the women threw themselves at him. But that kind of approach wasn't going to work here. He understood that now. And so saying Eomer went off to bed to plot what his next move might be.

* * *

A few days had passed and Eomer had just returned from another orc-hunting expedition. Only this time around some very strange things had happened along the way, chief of which had been when he had bumped into that elf, man and dwarf in the middle of the plains.

Eomer had been a good host, giving them some horses to go and look for their friends he might have just killed before heading home to tell the King of the strangers abroad in his land. By doing this he hoped to absolve himself of any responsibility for the three strangers should they go on a rampaging killing spree in revenge. After all, Theoden was technically in charge of Rohan and therefore in charge of all that occurred within her borders, providing he knew of it of course.

Thus it was that Eomer, feeling smug at having come up with such a brilliant strategy of shifting blame all by himself went to find Grima. He had come up with a cunning plan to get the chief counsellor to give in to his tactless, bumbling, suggestive seduction technique. He was going to invite Grima to come along with himself and the lads to the tavern and he was going to get Grima utterly drunk. That was the plan anyway. He rounded the corner to see it scuppered. That bitch Eowyn was only putting the moves on _HIS_ cinnamon bun with the sword-play innuendo technique. Now really, who did she think she was? Eomer watched as Grima laughed uncomfortably at something Eowyn had hinted at before he turned tail and fled.

* * *

Grima wasn't entirely sure what to make of the invitation he had found that morning shoved under his door.

"Come to the Training Room, noon. I have a nice surprise

for you to take your mind off things.

Eowyn xx"

He had read it and re-read it and tried to find out what on earth the Lady could mean by a nice surprise. Grima never had been one for surprises, they didn't tend to ever be anything good, and coming from a female, well! He shuddered to think what might be in store for him.

Grima didn't have much experience when it came to women. Instead he had a vague impression that they were all moody, nasty, spiteful, ambiguous and downright crazy. Thus it was that he approached his meeting with Eowyn with a certain amount of fear. This was not being helped by the fact that he could not for the life of him think of what The Surprise may be. So he had spent the morning focusing upon ways to get out of going to receive it.

Oh! If only Eomer were here, he could have gone and asked his advice then. He knew Eomer had lots of experience with women. In fact, everyone knew Eomer had lots of experience with women, especially the young girls' fathers. But Eomer wasn't here and so Grima was left to go it on his own.

Taking a deep breath, fortifying himself and seriously contemplating just running away, he peeked his head through the door, the letter clutched nervously in his hand. He looked round for Eowyn, wondering if she was here at all. He really, really hoped she wasn't.

"GRIMA!"

She was. Bugger it.

Eowyn sauntered over to Grima. Several thoughts crossed his worried mind. "What on earth is she wearing? And is that…no no no! Don't think about it, don't think about it! And is that a sword she's holding! Good grief!" That was it; he was really starting to get scared now.

"Oh, Grima", she giggled "You've come. I was so worried you may have been too busy to join me." She batted her eyelids prettily. The effect was lost on Grima, who was too busy trying not to focus on the lack of dress she was wearing, so to speak. He waved the note in front of him helplessly. "Er, I got this" he said hesitantly. He could feel the dread creeping over him as his mind began to wander down paths best left unexplored.

Completely unperturbed Eowyn reached out and took Grima's hand. "I thought I might teach you sword play - I've been told I'm quite talented", she winked at Grima.

"Oh...right" he murmured back, not wanting to upset the Lady. "Okay, well can we get on with it? Only I have a lot of other very important things to be doing." Please get the hint, please get the hint, he silently begged.

"Oh! So forward!" she exclaimed, "I like that in a man."

Grima just nodded and smiled. Damn. This was going to be darned tricky to extricate himself from now. He sighed and supposed that he really should just get on with it. He was a man after all, not some snivelling coward. Well, okay he was a snivelling coward, but only some of the time. And the sooner they started, the sooner they would be finished. He hoped anyway.

He accepted the sword Eowyn offered him and fastened it around his waist. Eowyn insisted on checking he'd attached it correctly, which involved a lot of accidental brushes of the hand in places where a young lady's hand shouldn't go. Or so Grima's limited knowledge led him to believe. Eowyn returned to stand in front of Grima.

"Now then, watch me" she said. "This is a sword." She pointed to said object.

Grima felt mildly insulted at this. Surely she could not think him that dumb. Ofcourse he knew what a sword was. His late beloved crumpet was always playing around with the silly things.

"Right, the best way to get the sword out of the scabbard is to grip the hilt thus." She leered at Grima who began to feel a just a bit more uncomfortable. "Grip it firmly and pull on it slowly" she said as she drew the sword out a bit, looking at Grima keenly.

He was now a little confused. Was Eowyn trying it on with him? Or was this the fabled female nastiness coming through? He didn't know whether she was being serious, oblivious to the innuendos in her teaching technique or whether they were deliberate and she was laughing at him and his reactions. Where was Eomer when you needed him! He would know what to make of this puzzle.

But since he himself didn't, he decided to maintain a neutral expression throughout the course of this hellish experience. That way he would be sure not to upset Eowyn by giving the wrong reaction to her tutoring. And Grima had known Eowyn long enough to know never to piss her off. There, acceptable solution found, now to get on with it.

Eowyn didn't appear taken aback by his lack of reaction. That was good. She continued with her lesson. "Look how easily the sword slides in and out of its sheath" she said, drawing the sword just so in demonstration. "It just moves so smoothly, so easily, sheath and sword a perfect match, two souls entwining into one." With one last slide, she drew the sword again and peered around the blade. She watched Grima expectantly.

Grima stared back at her expectantly too, waiting for her to go on. Eventually he sensed that he was meant to do something. "Oh, right. Umm." He drew his own sword in one swift motion and held it unsteadily. He waved it round a bit for the look of the thing.

"Oh, your sword! It's so long!" Eowyn exclaimed, not making any attempt to hide the lustful look she knew to be in her eyes

"Yeah." Grima wasn't listening to her. He was too busy trying not to drop the sword onto his toes. It was bloody heavy! Grima couldn't imagine how people went around fighting with these things. He certainly had a new respect for people who could use a sword properly.

* * *

Eowyn was starting to get a little annoyed. How _dare_ he just ignore her blatant efforts at seduction! Was he stupid or something? She quickly amended that last thought. All men were stupid, Grima was just being a bit more dippy than most. Okay, last shot. This _had_ to work. There was no way that she was going to let her oaf of a brother win the affections of the man who stood before her. Oh no, she had been waiting too long to let Grima go now.

"Alright Grima, I'm going to teach you how to thrust", she giggled coyly. "Although I'm sure you'll be a natural" she added, winking at him. She had to frown though when all he did was nod. She struggled bravely onwards.

"Now then, grip your sword firmly and hold it upright." She smiled.

* * *

Grima looked down at his sword. He was supposed to hold that thing upright? It was too heavy! He felt like whining about it but saw Eowyn approach him and fear took over. He didn't want any part of his body to be brushed again, not by her. So with a considerable amount of strength borne of desperation he swung the sword up and held onto it with both hands, waiting for his next instructions.

The look in Eowyn's eyes told him that he had done The Wrong Thing. Her gaze seemed to eat him alive, but strangely enough she then said "Oh Grima look at you! So strong and that sword, up in one go!" However, Grima wasn't reassured; he could see her mind turning to dark thoughts. His cool, calm composure started to give way and in an effort to bring Eowyn around he gave a little cough. After all, if she was going to get angry he didn't want her realising what it was she was actually holding. He needed more time to make his getaway.

Thankfully though Eowyn blinked and her mind seemed to clear. She shook her head a bit and gripped her sword. "Now then, you need to lunge like this and move the sword forward in one smooth motion." She demonstrated, leering at Grima all the time. He was really getting panicky now and began to look for ways out of the room.

"You try." She smiled.

Grima looked at her and trying to get it over with as quickly as possible he gave a quick jab, stabbed at an imaginary enemy.

"Oooooooooooooh Grima, you're a natural! Thrusting comes so easily to you." Eowyn rounded on him. "I bet you're good at all sorts of things that involve thrusting."

Grima dropped his sword, letting it clatter to the ground. "This woman is definitely mad!" he thought to himself as he began to back away from her, looked around frantically.

"Excuse me my lady…I…err…really must go and do those important things I mentioned earlier." And with that he turned tail and fled as fast as his legs would carry him, relieved to be getting away from the woman.

Eowyn scowled after the retreating counsellor. "_HOW DARE HE_!" she thought. "I'm beautiful, I'm young, and no-one can resist me!" She shouted out "You basta…" SLAM And just who did he think he was, slamming the door on a princess! That man! As well as being stupid he clearly had no manners. She huffed and stomped off to her chambers, half inclined to let her brother have the oblivious little fool.

* * *

Later that afternoon and Theoden was experiencing one of his more lucid phases. He had called for Eowyn, Eomer and Theodred to come and see him. It was time to explain all about Theodreds 'little accident'.

"My Lord, your son is dead" lamented Eowyn. "Oh how I miss him so" cried she. Eomer watched stonily as Grima came up behind her and gave her an encouraging pat to the shoulder before putting his arm around her consolingly.

Eomer's brain kick-started itself at this point. "Do something!" it screamed at him. Jealousy took over and Eomer decided that he could never, ever let that evil woman win this. Ever. So he burst into tears; loud, noisy, messy sobs. "Oh woe is me" he wailed. "Poor Theodred, the grief is just too much!"

This was an act that went against every manly man fibre of his body and he was glad that none of his men were there to see it. But it was worth it when a moment later his magnificent display was justly rewarded. Grima left his sister and ran up to him, grabbed him and hugged him.

"I know, I know", he wept "It is too terrible a loss." Eomer grinned over his shoulder at Eowyn, fighting the urge to stick his tongue out in triumph at her. The Look she gave him should have laid him out where he stood. He even began to laugh quietly to himself as she turned away haughtily to see to the King. As Grima began to pull away Eomer hastened to tears once more.

* * *

Now this little incident caused Eomer to rethink his plan a bit. He still took Grima down to the tavern to 'drown his sorrows' as he so cunningly put it, but instead of taking advantage of the completely out of it counsellor he decided to do something even more terrible. He persuaded Grima to come along with the lads and him on the orc-hunting trip they had planned for the morrow.

How Eomer managed this is another story but suffice to say that lines like "it's a perfect opportunity for some male-bonding" and "it would be a good chance for you to avenge your lovers death" played no small part in it. So it was that Grima finally agreed to tag along, before falling off the floor.

He woke up the next morning with a pounding head to find someone banging on the door. "Who is it?" he managed to croak out before Eomer strode into the room, none the worse for wear, and dragged him up, pausing only briefly to admire the view.

"Come on, come on, we're late in setting off already" he said, a little too cheerfully. It was at this point that Grima decided Eomer had to die. He refrained though and watched Eomer as he hurled random things in his direction before striding off calling behind him "I'll see you in the stables in 10 minutes!"

Grima sat confused for a moment. Why would he have to meet Eomer in the stables? He remained suspicious until everything came back to him at once when he was struggling with his leggings, causing him to fall over in shock. What had he let himself in for? He hated orcs and he hated horses even more. The prospect of spending two days stuck on the back of the latter prancing after the former filled his heart with terror. But this was quickly replaced with other, more worrying thoughts over who had put him to bed last night with no clothes on.

* * *

Eomer made his way down to the stables. He was going orc hunting, one of his favourite manly man pastimes. And Grima was coming along too which was bound to be fun. But not nearly as much fun as tonight promised to be though when Plan C would roll into action. Ah yes, the 'Conveniently Forgotten Bedroll' trick. He was sure this would work, it just had to. He had to ensnare, ahem, he meant seduce Grima before they returned to Edoras and that fat cow of a sister could get her claws back into him. That whole sword-play innuendo thing had been too close for comfort.

* * *

Grima made his way down to the stables and went to fetch his horse from its stall. Its empty stall. "Bad news old chap. Your horse appears to have run away, so you'll be sharing with me for the duration." Eomer still sounded far too cheerful for Grima's liking and he was beginning to get a bit suspicious of Eomer's motives in bringing him along at all.

"What do you mean she has run away! She was here yesterday!" he exclaimed, glaring at Eomer who began to squirm a bit under his gaze.

"Ah…well it seems…yes….it seems someone left the stable door open" he managed to say, gathering himself a bit.

"But no-one else appears to have lost their horse" Grima pointed out.

Eomer pointedly ignored him and mounted his own horse. He looked down at Grima. "Come on, if you want to tag along you're going to have to get up", he offered the counsellor his hand and Grima sighed. He really couldn't see a way of getting out of this now, so until something presented itself he was just going to have to make do and accept his fate. He pulled himself up behind Eomer who then led the party down through the city and out into the plains.

* * *

That evening and there had been no less than four mini-battles with orcs over the course of the day. Eomer and his motley crew of manly men were very happy. Grima wasn't. He had spent the day clinging to Eomer for dear life as they had galloped after their prey, and he had literally been in the mans lap in terror during the fighting. No, Grima had had a most miserable day. And to top it all off his bum was hurting. He_ really_ didn't like horses.

As Eomer called a halt for the evening Grima leapt off the horse, or rather he carefully got down trying not to move anything because it all hurt too much. Eomer noticed this and turning to his little cupcake he inquired what was wrong.

"I am stiff from riding is all" answered Grima. "I'm not used to staying mounted for so long."

Eomer had to work very hard to drag his mind back out of the gutter at this but once he had succeeded he offered "I can rub it better for you if you want." The leer that accompanied this little sentence would have been enough to put the fear of the Gods into anyone, and Grima was no exception. He battled the urge to run far, far away from the horse lord.

"No, no that's fine" he stuttered, stumbling backwards. "I'll just go help set up camp shall I?" And with that he turned and fled, albeit in a rather stilted manner.

Poor Eomer stared after him, disappointment etching his brow. What had gone wrong there? It had been going so well all day too. He sighed and walked to help his men, but perked up a bit when he remembered the whole point of the trip. Conveniently Missing Bedrolls!

* * *

After much singing and carousing around the campfire in celebration of the days numerous victories it was finally decided that it was time for bed. Everyone went to their bedrolls and soon the camp was filled a cacophony of snores.

Grima walked over to his pack in search of his bedding and glumly realised that he had left it all behind in the rush that morning. He hadn't noticed before, being too busy trying to remain as far away from Eomer as possible. The man had been giving him some very odd looks lately…

Lost in melancholy thoughts of how uncomfortable the ground looked he didn't hear Eomer approach. "You can have mine if you want." Grima jumped and spun around to find Eomer standing very close by.

"I said you can have mine if you want." Eomer didn't seem to have noticed just how near he was to the counsellor and carried blithely on. "I'm on first watch tonight anyway and I don't mind doing without for you." There was a disconcerting emphasis laid on those last two words.

"Thank you" Grima managed to reply. He was feeling slightly sacred now but couldn't quite determine why. Instead, he grabbed the bedroll and took off for the other side of the camp as fast as one can whilst on tip-toes. He lay himself down and felt all his aches and pains finally begin to ease away. He snuggled up, decided to put Eomer out his mind for the time being and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Eomer went back to watching the camp, a triumphant smile on his face. Finally, the plan was afoot and he could hardly wait the rest of the hour until he could take full advantage of it. But he did have to wonder a bit about Grima. The counsellor had been quite obviously avoiding him for the evening and he had been giving Eomer some very strange looks. This worried him briefly before he decided that his little Eccles cake was simply playing hard to get. Well, he knew what to do about that! And he had only 45 minutes left to wait. At last, it looked as if Eomer was about to get what he had desired for as long as could remember. And he couldn't wait to show off to Eowyn when they got home. Now that would be fun!

* * *

His watch ended, Eomer went to rouse rider no. 38 for his turn. After many minutes of whispering, shaking, shouting and a final good old-fashioned kick to the bum rider no.38 took to his post.

Eomer looked around at the various lumps scattered on the ground and thought he espied his love on the far side of the camp. He crept across to it, trying to avoid as many heads as possible and clambered under the blanket next to the sleeping figure.

Cue much groping and whispered endearments by one consenting adult. Then cue much groping back by the wrong rider. With absolute horror Eomer realised he had crawled into the wrong bedroll. This wasn't his little iced bun! Far from it! This was some big, butch, manly man, random rider, who was now grabbing Eomer in ways he didn't want to think about.

"Oh my Captain! I never knew you felt this way!" exclaimed said big butch manly man random rider.

"I don't you oaf, get off me!" protested Eomer, panic ringing loud and clear in his voice. The random rider didn't seem to get the message though and he pinned Eomer down and gave him a big sloppy kiss. The last coherent thoughts to go through Eomers head were "crap, how did it go so wrong?" This was swiftly followed by "actually, that's quite nice…maybe tonight won't be such a loss after all."

* * *

Grima was awakened some time in the night by muffled yelps coming from the bedroll next to him. It took a moment for him to work out what was going on, but once he had he turned away in disgust. Some people were trying to get some sleep you know! He tried to block out the noise, which was becoming disturbingly high in pitch, not to mention rather loud, and nodded off again.

* * *

The next day dawned sunny and bright and it was time to begin the ride back to Edoras. Grima, who was really beginning to enjoy himself now that the end was nigh, was seated behind a very disgruntled Eomer who spent the entire journey home grumbling about bedrolls and sore bottoms.

Eowyn watched jealously as her brother trotted past with Grima clinging to him. No matter what she had thought about the man after her disastrous sword play lesson, Eowyn still wasn't ready to give Grima up yet.

Jealousy soon turned into utmost anger though when Eomer spotted her, leered and made some very suggestive hand gestures whilst Grima was looking the other way. The situation was further exasperated when Eomer, having dismounted, begun to walk towards her with a slight, yet unmistakable limp to his step (Eomer had really enjoyed himself last night, regardless of what he might claim).

Eowyn was could only come to one conclusion, and feeling as though she would explode with rage, she threw a very dirty Look towards Grima and stormed off back up towards the Golden Hall. As she went she decided that the time had come for drastic action. If she stood any hope at all of salvaging the situation she must employ that most deadly of weapons, the…da da dah…Scanty Nightdress.

* * *

A very confused Grima wandered up to Eomer. "What was all that about?"

"I haven't got a clue" Eomer said, looking a bit too innocent.

Grima shrugged and decided that Eowyns mood was probably to do with women's things (heaven forbid), and began to wander back up to Meduseld with Eomer. As they went inside it was perhaps the euphoria of being home that caused Grima to say "I really enjoyed myself this weekend my Lord, thank you very much", finding it strangely true.

"That's alright; we shall have to do it again sometime."

"Oh definitely! I haven't had so much fun in ages."

"You're welcome Grima. I shall see you at dinner."

Grima began to walk back to his own rooms, but no sooner had he turned the corner than he ran into Eowyn. Now Eowyn was a superb swordswoman, and with Looks like the one she was now levelling at Grima she need never have any fear of beast or man. One brief glance at a pissed-off Eowyn holding a sword was enough to send even the toughest of battle-hardened warriors crying for his Mum. And whilst Grima now did nothing quite that extreme, the speed with which he scarpered down the hallway was still impressive.

* * *

Eomer went off to his own chambers to freshen up, a happy man. The sight of his sister's face when he had ridden up with Grima was one he was sure he would never forget. And he felt very pleased with himself for the limp thing; he felt it had been very clever of him to exaggerate it like that. And Grima finally seemed to be responding to his charms. On the whole things were going very nicely. All that remained to be done now was a final bit of seducing and he should be in there! Wahay! Yes, it was time to implement the Grand Plan…the scantily clad nightshirt scenario!

Meanwhile, four strangers upon three horses were riding towards Edoras with all possible speed.

* * *

Eowyn was in the throes of her last desperate bid to get back in the game. Which was why she was now creeping along the corridor to Grima's rooms, wearing nothing more than a very flimsy nightdress, beyond caring whether anyone saw her or not. Arriving at her destination, cursing the cold and the fact that she was foolish enough to be doing something as stupid as this in the first place, Eowyn slipped through the door and closed it, before leaning seductively against it. However, what she was confronted with was not what she had been expecting.

Grima was lying sprawled on the bed, bawling his eyes out into the pillows. Walking over, Eowyn sat down beside him and patted his shoulder. "There, there, what's wrong?" she asked him quietly.

Grima started to find someone else in the room but when he saw who it was he sat up and began weeping again. "I miss Theodred!" he managed to get out between the sobs.

Eowyn spied an opportunity, drew him in and gave him a big hug. Grima was surprised to find himself squished against Eowyn's bosom, but it was rather comfortable, so he remained where he was and took the chance of using Eowyn's nightdress as a hankie.

This did not go down too well with the lady herself. This nightie had been bloody expensive! And Grima wasn't reacting to her charms at all properly. Again. Schooling herself to patience though she put on a nice soft voice and offered "It's alright. Do you want me to make it all better for you?" She began rubbing Grima's back soothingly to get her point across.

"No you can't! Only Theodred can and he's dead!" wailed Grima.

Eowyn began to silently fume. That damn cousin of hers! He was dead and dusted and he was still getting in the way. "Are you sure?" she asked the counsellor sweetly.

"Thank you my Lady, but I assure you...mph!"

In a truly frantic last ditch attempt Eowyn had grabbed him and kissed him. She didn't see how he could possibly misinterpret _that_. But Grima was always willing to rise to a challenge (in fact, if he had done that in the first place he wouldn't be having these problems now). After a few moments of struggle Grima managed to pull away and he looked at her in shock. "My Lady! What are you doing?" he exclaimed in horror, creeping away from her to the other side of the bed.

Eowyn took note of this and utterly losing her temper she decided that Grima really was a lost cause. Her stupid brother was welcome to him. In her anger Eowyn stormed towards the door, pausing only to turn to Grima and shriek at him "Men! You're all such bastards!" She followed this with a satisfying slam of the door and set off back to her own chambers where she could brood and sulk. Grima was going to pay for humiliating her like this. And for ruining such a lovely nightgown. Oh yes, he was really going to pay.

* * *

Eomer crept along the corridor to the room of his one true love wearing a shockingly short nightshirt that was really pushing the bounds of decency. But he didn't care, he was too happy to. As far as he was concerned tonight was going to be the triumphant culmination of lots of hard work (for Eomer anyway) that he been waiting years for.

He reached Grima's door, went through it and was greeted by a rather unexpected sight. There before him sitting on the bed was Grima, sobbing his little heart out. Eomer rushed over to him and threw an arm around his shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "There, there" he tried, "what's wrong?"

"I miss Theodred!" Grima wailed pitifully.

Eomer felt moved by this, truly he did, but this was just too good an opportunity for him to allow it to just flitter past. So he said "It's alright. Do you want me to make it all better for you?"

"No you can't. And anyway, Eowyn was just here and she just said that and then she was really nasty to me." Grima broke down again and threw himself at Eomer for a comforting hug.

"Eowyn was just here?" Eomer asked, astounded. "That little hussy! What did she say to you?"

"She called me nasty names."

"There, there Grima, cheer up." Eomer really was trying to be nice and considerate but to a manly man like Eomer such things don't come naturally. So it was rather a surprise to both of them when Eomer overcame such natural disabilities and launched into one of the most moving and emotional speeches he was ever to make.

"Cheer up Grima! Theodred wouldn't want you to be sad now would he? He'd want you to be happy, enjoying yourself, moving on, not sitting here crying and moping like a little girl all lonely and sad and pathetic (please remember that this is Eomer). He wouldn't want you to be sacrificing all your future happiness and further chances of love just so that you can honour and keep pure his memory. Theodred would never have made such a demand of you, he was too nice to."

At least, that was what Eomer said. What he was thinking was something like this: "Yeah right, Theodred was a bastard through and through who would never want you to move on and who would keep you locked in everlasting grief at his demise and who would have thrown a real hissy fit if he could see you now snuggling up to me now. Heehee, he's snuggling up to me! Woohoo!"

Yes, Eomer really could have done with some lessons in romance but who cared? Right now he was getting results. He was getting snuggling. So there!

"Eomer," Grima sniffed tentatively. "Do you like me?"

"By the Valar! Oh course I do!" exclaimed Eomer, shocked that his little scone would think otherwise.

Grima looked bashfully up at him. "Do you really really like me?"

"Let me show you how much I like you…"

Cue big steamy kissing scene with free surprised squeak of "Oh Eomer!" And cue lots of imaginary fireworks in celebration of our gallant hero's success in this most difficult of missions. And now dear reader, I think we had best go and leave them to it, don't you?

* * *

Cue the morning after, with our gallant hero and his companion from the night before lying delightfully mussed and sleepy in bed. And here would be a perfect place to end the tale. But lo! What is this? It is a messenger at the door, knocking politely and calling "the King wishes to see you most urgently counsellor!" Well damn, it was good while it lasted.

"I shall be there in a moment" Grima called back. He climbed out of bed, after fighting Eomer off, and began to hunt around for his clothes. Eomer lazily followed him up and wandered over to the newly-repaired window. But lo! What is this that he can see? It is those three strangers he met earlier on, now rapidly riding through Edoras in a decidedly homicidal manner.

"Shit, shit, shit!" He ran around the room looking for his nightshirt and grabbing a pair of Grima's leggings (well they were nearly the same size) before running into the corridor and down towards the Hall, Grima on his heels, tugging on a set of robes.

"What is it?" But Eomer gave no reply, being in too much of a hurry to beat those weird strangers to the King. After all, one cannot defend ones actions of accidentally murdering two Halfings if one is not present to do so. Can one?

So it was that both horse lord and counsellor came barging into the Great Hall, very short of breath, half-dressed, in short leaving very little to the imaginations of all those typically lecherous courtiers that surrounded them.

Grima adjusted his clothing and went over to the King whilst Eomer found himself confronted by his sister, who just happened to have been witness to their little entrance and now looked as though she would quite happily kill her brother with her bare hands. "I'll get you back for this" she hissed.

He gave her a small smile. He was far too happy this morning to bother being fazed by his little sister, homicidal rider's aside. "Oh I don't doubt it sister" he replied.

"Oooh!" Eowyn stomped off in a manner quite unbecoming of such a well-bred young lady.

Eomer watched her go before his attention was caught by four very pissed off people now entering the Hall. And lo! What is this? One of them just happened to be Gandalf Stormcrow, now resurrected as Gandalf the White with all the extra power that entailed.

Eomer realised that he was really, really in the doo now. So he tried to hide behind a pillar. And it was from there that he watched in fascination as the wizard released his Uncle from an evil spell, thus allowing him to regain in full measure the energy and youthful looks that had so long been denied to him. And he watched in something akin to horror as the four companions turned upon his little cupcake.

"You spy!" shouted the elf.

"You put an evil spell upon the King!" accused the man.

"Evil spawn you are!" declared the wizard.

"Kill it! Kill it!" screamed the dwarf, brandishing his axe.

This last comment met with general approval and they all followed Grima menacingly as he began to back out of the Hall, looking terrified. They were joined by the rest of those present, who liked a good scuffle as much as anyone. Anyway, such brilliant entertainment was rare nowadays, what with the King's condition and all. It was time they let themselves have a bit of fun. At least, that was how _they_ viewed it.

Eomer ran up to help his raspberry muffin but was beaten by Eowyn who got to him first. She pointed a finger at Grima and screeched "Oh how he has tormented me! Too long has he haunted my steps! Too long has he been trying it on, that evil wretch! We must be rid of him, he that has sold Rohan to Saruman!"

There was a collective disbelieving gasp from those present. This was turning out to be a lot better than anticipated. They all turned as one to look at Grima, and then watched as Theoden picked up his sword and chased the counsellor outside, from where he made a hasty retreat out of the city.

It was a very, very angry Eomer that turned to face his sister. He had expected her to get back at him somehow, but he had never believed that she would act so soon, or so maliciously, or so extremely! That smug bitch! She was lucky there were guests around or Eomer would not have been responsible for his actions.

Eowyn just smirked at him until he turned away in grief and fury.

* * *

In the days that followed Eomer dreamt of many ways in which he could get revenge on his sister, but all of them were either too impractical or simply not nasty enough. And so it was that after many nights of scheming the perfect solution presented itself as the people of Rohan were fleeing to the shelter of Helm's Deep.

Eomer had turned to throw a dirty look at Eowyn and had noticed her staring at that rugged ranger, Aradorm or something, with barely concealed lust evident in her eyes. He followed her gaze and also noticed that the admittedly pretty elf was staring back at the shieldmaiden, whilst moving closer to said rugged ranger, who seemed oblivious to both of them.

"Mwahahahahaha!" thought Eomer as the Plan formed in his mind. This was going to be a very sweet revenge indeed.


End file.
